At the end of a busy day yesterday, I lay in bed drifting off to sleep and realized I hadn’t done my blog post o’ day. And then these two words came to mind: “Oh well.”

I didn’t have anything to share for Watercolor/Crafty Wednesday, anyway. I was going to look through some of my art work of yore and post that, but I didn’t even get that far. Again, oh, well. Next week, perhaps!

I took my mom to see her eye doctor again today. As we waited in the office, I thought she might enjoy listening to an old favorite album: “Songs of the Sea” by the Norman Luboff Choir; it only took a moment to find it on Spotify. She had been sitting somewhat listlessly, but as I played the opening song, she perked up considerably.

Oh Shenandoah…I long to hear you
Away, you rolling river
Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you
Away, we’re bound away, ‘cross the wide Missouri

She told me once that she always remembered the first time she heard the Norman Luboff choir singing something on the radio. She had been coming downstairs and was so moved by it, she sat down on the stairs and listened, completely mesmerized. She’s always loved men’s choirs and after hearing this, she bought a couple of their albums and I grew up listening to them: “Songs of the West” and “Songs of the Sea.”

Oh, have you heard the news, my Johnny
One more day
We’re homeward bound tomorrow
One more day
Only one more day, my Johnny, one more day
Oh, rock and roll me over
One more day.

When the appointment was over, we got in the car and the album was still playing. She finds it very hard to remember anything these days, but as we sang those songs together on the way home, she sang the words with confidence. We harmonized at times and hardly spoke a word.

Rolling home, rolling home
Rolling home across the sea
Rolling home to dear old England
Rolling home dear land to thee.

The album goes back and forth between slow, contemplative songs and energetic, foot-tapping songs. Pretty soon, she was slapping her knee and I was slapping the steering wheel to the beat.

O say was you ever in Rio Grande?
Way, you Rio
It’s there that the river runs down golden sand
For we’re bound for the Rio Grande.

And then we’d slow down and croon during songs like this one:

The ship goes sailing down the bay
Goodbye, my lover, goodbye.
We may not meet for many a day
Goodbye my lover, goodbye.

I realized I was driving quite slowly so it would take longer to get back to where I’d be dropping her off. Time for another fast one.

I’ll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid.
A roving, a roving, since roving’s been my ru-i-in,
I’ll go no more a roving with you, fair maid!

As we were pulling into the parking lot, “Lowlands” was playing. I told her we were not going to leave the car until that song was over, so we just sat in the car and finished it out.

I dreamed a dream the other night
Lowlands, lowlands away, my John
My love she came, all dressed in white
Lowlands, lowlands, away.

Time to go. I’ll never be able to listen to those songs now without thinking of our sweet little concert in the car. And the memory itself will be sweet. I gave her a big hug and said goodbye.

Goodbye, my mother, goodbye.

I’ll probably delete this after one more day, my Johnny, one more day…

Time’s a wasting, so let’s get right down to it:

Proverbs 12:1
Whoever loves instruction loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid.

Every time I read that verse, I remember what happened when our kids were young and we eventually forbade them to use the word “stupid,” because they were using it to insult each other. My mother was visiting once and used the word in a perfectly reasonable context and little Ruthie (about 3 years old at the time) told her solemnly “You can’t say that word, Grandma – it’s a bad word.” Uh oh. Context is everything, I guess. We had a good laugh over that.

Proverbs 12:24
The hand of the diligent will rule, but the lazy man will be put to forced labor.

As I used to tell my children, “Govern yourself or you will be governed!”

And now for some words of wisdom and inspiration from a magazine we get called “WORLD.” It’s a news magazine which strives to present “Biblically objective journalism that informs, educates, and inspires.” I don’t usually underline things in a magazine, but appreciated and wanted to share a few things from the February 13, 2021 issue.

Benny Tai is a Christian legal scholar in Hong Kong and has been involved in various protests there, such as Occupy Central. He has been sentenced to serve time in prison for his efforts. He said in his closing argument at the trial in 2018:

“If we are truly guilty, then our crime is daring to sow hope even in this difficult time in Hong Kong. I’m not afraid or ashamed to go to prison. If this cup of suffering cannot be taken away, I will drink it without regret.”

Speaking of the gospel, Andree Sue Peterson wrote:

“God is always looking to enfold more people into the secret. A secret that, once a man has buried it in his heart, sets him free from envy of those who seem to be luckier (Psalm 73). It renders him able to forgive; to love; to be honest; to be uncontrolled by his issues, by other people’s issues, by fear of death, fear of man, fear of rejection, past wounds, bad memories… Winter comes, and its chill is felt throughout our land.But keep the secret in your heart, and I will too. And we will make it through.”

And in reference to fleeing ideological addictions, Marvin Olasky wrote:

“Remember that our deeper problems are theological, not political. Elephant-riding Republicans eventually get stomped. Democrats who worship worldly wise-men are betting on the wrong donkey. Biblical objectivity exists. God is sovereign. Praise His plan, not mine or yours.”

Hope you found something of interest or at least through-provoking in the Reading Roundup this week!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Maybe?

Monday Meanderings:

Lazy, Moi?
I haven’t been out on a walk in about two weeks. A bad habit is becoming ingrained. It’s hard to get motivated when it’s so cold out.

Valentine’s Day Math
1 dozen roses
+ 2 boxes of chocolates
+ 1 wonderful letter
= 1 very grateful wife.

I’m pretty sure I’ve got the best husband in the world! ❤️

The Dog Whisperer
I’ve been on a Dog Whisperer kick lately. I think Cesar Millan is a genius, but I’m always amazed by how many people are willing to invite the cameras and publicity into their homes when everyone knows that the problem usually isn’t the dog, it’s the dog owner. I’m ashamed to think what he would have said to me when we had a dog.

Chronicles of Narnia
I devoted an entire blog post to the defense of the Harry Potter books, but I need to point out that if my love of the Potter books was a grain of sand, my love of the Narnia books would be a universe of beaches (yet another time when a phrase from The Princess Bride comes in handy). I’m pretty sure I’ll have to devote an entire blog post to that subject, too.

Ode to Leftovers
O thou food leftover in the fridge,
How do I love thee?
Thou art the soft pillow under my head,
Thou art the warmth of a heater on a cold day,
Thou art a good book in my hand
And a cup of hot tea by my side.
Bless thee for thy good service
In sparing me from travail in the kitchen.

I’m not sure anything else needs to be said. Monday Meanderings and Musings has been Manufactured for you by Many Marvelous Moments in the Mind of Lynniebee.

I’ll probably meander off in the morning and forget about deleting this…

Lydia purchased a new hat. She almost didn’t see it at the thrift store – what a fortunate thing that she had gone to the very bottom of the hat barrel. It positively called to her and she clasped it happily to her chest. “What a find!” she marveled. It was hard to imagine that somebody had given it away.

Lydia fancied herself to be quite fashionable, but in a one-of-a-kind way. Not for her were the clothes at stores that had rack after rack of whatever happened to be the latest “thing.” No, she wouldn’t follow trends, she would set them.

Poor Lydia. Nobody could figure out a kind way to tell her that her sense of fashion was deplorable. Or was it?

Fashions don’t just grow on trees – somebody has to make them!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I’m short on time today, so that’s all I’ve got. The drawing is one of our “Squiggly” collection. Someone draws a squiggly line and the next person has to try to make it into a drawing of some sort.

Still trying to decide whether or not to continue on with the “Dear Bucky” letters from Martin. Vote early, vote often!

This has been Friday Fiction with Lynniebee. Somebody has to write these things!

I’ll probably be setting trends or deleting them in the morning. Hard to say for sure.

This is a picture of an old photo of me and my little sister. It’s clear that we’re the subject of the photo – look at those smiling faces munching on saltines and peanut butter! The older I get, though, the more I appreciate all the other details. I remember those bowls and cups, but I sure don’t remember that wallpaper, and if you’d have asked me, I would have told you that we didn’t get a dishwasher until our youngest sister was born when I was about 11 years old.

As an aside, the reason for connecting my littlest sister with a dishwasher was this: we were sitting around in the kitchen one fall day and our parents told us we were going to be getting something new in the spring. It sounded really exciting and they let us guess what it could be. “A dishwasher?” “A color TV?” I’ll admit it was a bit of a letdown after that when we found out it was going to be a baby, but she turned out to be pretty special – way better than appliances. Somehow I connected that memory with us not having a dishwasher at the time, which we clearly did.

Anyway, when I started doing photo albums for our family, I learned how to crop photos and crop them I did. I cut off all sorts of unimportant background things – snip, snip, snip – into the wastebasket you shall go. I could fit more photos on the page that way, and after all, the people are usually the most important part of the photo, right?

But when I was looking through our old photo albums, I realized how precious to me those other details were. They presented a more full and rich history of those growing up years, reminders of the things that made up the tapestry of our lives. I won’t say I quit cropping photos altogether after that, but I made it a priority to save as much of the photo as I could. Our children will want to see those chairs in the background, the old toys they played with that are gone now, the cars we were driving at the time, the dishes we used…

When I look at the photo above, I love everything about it – the crumbs on the table, the Sue-Bee honey in the background, the cookbooks all higglety-pigglety on the shelf over the dishwasher, the nasty old chairs, our bibs (bibs, for Pete’s sake!) – everything. And I love the moment with my sister that was captured and those sweet, happy faces full of saltines.

Thursday thoughts with Lynniebee…

I’ll probably crop this in the morning…ha ha!

I’ve been pretty crafty lately – working on a really fun project – but it’s for an upcoming birthday, so I’m not posting any photos yet.

I’m always kind of surprised that a week goes by and I haven’t gotten around to doing any painting. I have great intentions, really I do!

So the artsiest thing I’ve got to post today is a drawing I did on the Paper App. I’ve been enjoying rediscovering that app after giving it a rest for the last 4-5 years. I’ll show you what the tools look like:

From left to right:

Eraser, blending tool, ink pen, pencil, fat marker, sketching tool, paintbrush, thin marker, scissors, thingamabob (can’t remember the name of it) and then the round blending area for if you want to blend two colors to create one that isn’t shown. The color dots above are just one “page” of them – you actually get about 5 pages of those. If you look at what kind of work people are doing using Paper, it’s amazing. I use a stylus for drawing and printing, but it’s still kind of “messy” looking, which is exactly the look I want (ha ha!). The app is free, but you can purchase all the extras for a pretty reasonable price. I might do that at some point.

This turned into an ad for Paper – sorry! (But not sorry enough to go back and delete things).

Here’s my latest Paper Caper:

Five points to the first person that can remind me what the thingamabob is!

And that’s all she wrote.

I’ll probably delete…a thingamabob.

My mom, an inveterate reader, has come to the place with her eyesight when she can no longer read. I have many memories of her sitting on the couch reading at night, reading aloud the things she found funny or interesting. She introduced me to authors and books that I still love and return to regularly. Reading has enriched my life in so many ways and there’s a very real sense in which I have my mother to thank for that. A teacher at school taught me how to read, but it was my mom who taught me, by example, to love it.

I waited patiently upon the LORD;
He stooped to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the desolate pit, out of the mire and clay;
he set my feet upon a high cliff and made my footing sure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God;
many shall see, and stand in awe,
and put their trust in the LORD.
Psalm 40: 1-3

Wonderful words. I love the agency of God in that passage – He stoops, he hears, he lifts, he makes footing sure, he puts songs in our mouths – songs of praise! And what is our part? To wait patiently, see, stand in awe and put our trust in Him. Amen!

I finished another Lord Peter Wimsey mystery by Dorothy Sayers this week. While her writing isn’t as howlingly funny as Wodehouse, she definitely channels him at times with the things that Lord Peter says or thinks.

Wimsey, reflecting that the ability to swallow insult is a necessary part of the detective’s make-up, restrained the temptation to connect his toe with Mr. Weldon’s rather massive hinder-end…Have His Carcase, p. 148

And to Harriet (who has refused his marriage proposals many times) when she finds an important piece of evidence, he says,

And I could kiss you for it. You need not shrink and tremble. I am not going to do it. When I kiss you, it will be an important event – one of those things which stand out among their surroundings like the first time you tasted li-chee. It will not be an unimportant sideshow attached to a detective investigation.Have His Carcase, p. 203

And just for fun, here are the first lines of four books that I got from the library in the last week. I think first lines are interesting – sometimes the whole measure of the book can be taken from the first sentence.

“Not to disappoint you, but my troubles are nothing – not for an author, at least.”
Leif Enger, So Brave, Young and Handsome

“I can still see her, our Liz, sitting on a plank, dangling over that well.
Amy Weisgarber – The Personal History of Rachel DuPree

“Like most small children, I learned my home address so that if I got lost, I could tell a grown-up where to take me.”
J.D. Vance – Hillbilly Elegy

“They told me you want to know my story, why I ended up in this place?”
Liz Trenow – The Forgotten Seamstress

Thank you for taking the time to read these posts. It means a lot to me!

I’ll probably read some more in the morning. And maybe delete this if the mood strikes me.

Here’s what’s rolling around in my brain today:

1. It’s zero degrees outside. On the way home from work I passed an older fellow in a truck with his window partly open. Minnesota hardy! As opposed to someone like me who turns on the car seat heater the instant I start the car.

2. I’m working on a sewing project, another one of those things that looked easy, but due to misdirection and mistakes in the pattern book has been surprisingly difficult. I have had to depend on “The YouTubes” and my seam ripper quite a bit. Has someone been praying for me to grow in patience?

3. My mom has had both vaccine shots for Covid now and I’m wondering if the place where she lives will re-open for visits (most of the residents are getting the vaccine). It’s been almost a year since the place shut down for “two weeks.”

4. I think eyebrows were meant to be ignored. If you start looking at them on people’s faces, they strike you as very odd.

5. It’s funny how we don’t always see ourselves as we really are. Photographs and mirrors are truth tellers. My husband and I were just a little shocked to see how gray our hair looked in the photos from our daughter’s wedding last year. James had it right:

“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was.” James 1:22-24

All too true – it’s our nature to forget the things we don’t want to see, and to hold an image in our mind’s eye that’s not very faithful to the truth. We do, indeed, deceive ourselves.

Ha ha!

This has been Monday Musings with Lynniebee. Thanks for reading.

I’ll probably muse about deleting this post in the morning while avoiding my mirror.

Dear Bucky,
I started a new job today. Yes, congratulate me – it only took me four months to find another job after being downsized from the last one. I had to sign all sorts of non-disclosure stuff for this one, so now I can’t tell you much about what I do. There are whole floors in this place that are strictly verboten. Something seems a little off – the other employees are rather standoffish – not the kind to gather around the water cooler for office gossip. I’ve had my antennae out to detect whether or not anyone has a sense of humor, but this is a deadly serious conglomeration of humanity. My talents are wasted here.

Hope all is well with you and Suzanne. Tickle little Bucky Jr. for me.
Martin

Dear Bucky,
I’ve been on the job here for a few months now. Wish I could tell you more about what I do. It seems very commonplace to me, so I don’t understand all the secrecy. At times I feel sort of puffed up with a sense of importance, and at others times I realize the absurdity of it all and half expect someone to slap their knee jovially and tell me I’ve been the butt of a complicated prank. Sigh…no one at this place is jovial. I can’t tell you the name of the company, but privately, I call it “Hotel California,” or just HC.

Something a little odd happened the other day. I think I can tell you without divulging any of their precious secrets. I was filing something (ack – now you know that they use paper files – old school, for sure) and I came across an intriguing file with the heading “Interesting Ideas.” Of course we’ve been warned not to open files that aren’t part of our job and such is the culture of this place that I stood there for a moment with the file in my hand wondering if opening it would trip some silent alarm and I’d be carried away and disposed of in the night. The “charming” atmosphere here tends to cultivate paranoia even in rational people (meaning, me). I looked around – no one was near. I opened it. The file contained one piece of paper on which was typed the words “Long have I waited for someone to open this file. You will be contacted.” I almost laughed out loud – maybe someone here DOES have a sense of humor! Still, I went back to my desk and checked (surreptitiously) to see if anyone was looking at me meaningfully. Nothing happened. Nobody winked or tapped the side of their nose. There were no mysterious emails. Yup, it had to have been a joke. Wish I knew who it was so I could give silent kudos to them. I make good money at HC, but miss the comradery of the co-workers at my old job.

Hey Bucky, I know it’s a bit of a drive, but I’d sure appreciate a visit if you can tear yourself away from the Missus and the Progeny. As much as we fought while growing up, I kind of miss having my big brother around to torment me. If the itch to torment strikes you, I’m available.

Tell Suzanne she could do better. Ha ha – kidding. Mostly. Thanks for the photo of Bucky Jr. -he’s looking quite manly for an 8-month-old child. Hey, can I call him BJ? It could be sort of an Uncle Martin nickname that only I get to use.
Martin

Dear Bucky,
Sorry to have alarmed you with all the cloak and dagger stuff from the last email. No, I don’t think you’ll have to start dredging the river for me if you don’t hear from me for awhile (but it’s nice to think that you would – that’s what family is for, right?).

But I do have an update on the situation at HC. You’ll never believe this, but I have now been “contacted!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Welcome to Fiction Friday here at the LBMOD blog. I wanted to give you an example of an epistolary story. I’d love some feedback, so here are a few questions:
1. Do you want to know what happens next?
2. Does Martin sound too girly? I’m not sure if I should tackle writing from a man’s point of view. I changed it to Marcia at one point, but found I was already attached to Martin. What to do?
3. I decided, reluctantly, to make it clear that this was an email exchange, since this probably takes place more or less in our current time. But if I go back in time, these will be real letters. Does it even matter?

I’m not sure which of my kids did this illustration, but it was either Ruth or Sam for sure. I thought it fit the general mood of the post – funny, but vaguely unsettling. 😆

I’ll probably delete this post in the morning, but not until I’ve given you the impression that you can check into my blog anytime you want, but you can never leave.

Greetings from the land of frozen tundra.

Actually, we’re not far enough north to lay claim to that geographical nomenclature, but I like how it sounds. We enjoyed a nice snowfall with all the blowing and howling wind that you could want. Minnesotans eat this stuff up. If you read my post about the snow fence, you’ll be pleased to see that it worked just like it was supposed to:

Note the snow drift on the left side of the fence. The drift that normally would have been swallowing up our driveway is now tamely sitting in a calm and submissive manner by the fence, leashed, as it were by the mystical powers of the snow fence.

In other news, the subtitle of today’s post is: The Case of the Missing Suet Feeder. It was there yesterday and gone today.

The Man O’ the House suggested that perhaps it had broken off. I did my due diligence and shoveled under it with a fervor that would have looked to a passer-by as if I was digging for treasure.

I suspect squirrels being at the bottom of this crime. It’s a good rule of thumb: always suspect the squirrels. They’re frequently skittering about with quivering noses and looking furtive, positively reeking of guilt. Yes, squirrels have a lot to answer for.

A few more snow photos and we’re going to call this a wrap. Or, if autocorrect takes over, possibly a warp.

Okay, that’s a warp!

This has been Thursday Thoughts by Lynniebee.

If the snow is melting and the squirrels have returned our suet feeder, I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Now that I have a feature called “Watercolor Wednesday,” it actually pushes me into action. But today, I didn’t want to sit at a table, I wanted to sit on the couch in front of the heater, so I decided to use watercolor pencils and water reservoir brushes – the stuff I often bring when I’m traveling and almost never use anyway.

I have an assortment of colorful photos that I cut out of one of my mom’s old calendars to use for inspiration (waste not, want not!). I cut these out a couple years ago and they’ve been languishing in a drawer ever since, staring at me accusingly as if to say, “Why did you bother if you’re not going to use us?” Well, no more! Today is the day!

I started three quick sketches and only finished one with the actual watercolor part, since it’s suppertime and duty is calling out from the kitchen to get me off the couch (and no, I’m not talking about my husband).

Hopefully, I’ll get to the other two before another two years goes by.

I’m not much of a detail person.

That’s all, folks! Time to mosey on out to the kitchen!

I’ll probably mumble mumble mumble….